


When Our Ship Comes In

by evelynsteele



Series: Blowin' Smoke series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, one-sided meg/sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 11:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1264483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynsteele/pseuds/evelynsteele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second in the "Blowin Smoke" series. Meg is a fan of downright bad pick-up lines. Luckily for her, so is Sam. MegxSam one-sided flirting. Rated T+ for innuendos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Our Ship Comes In

Meg twirled a lock of hair that escaped her ponytail, frowning as she sat at the table with Sam. Her hair was now down to her chest, with a straight line halfway down between the bleached blonde and her natural dark brown. She looked over at him as she typed away on his laptop, taking a brief moment to silently admire his jaw line. “What would you do,” she asked, breaking the near-silence, “if I used an Angel Blade to cut my hair?”  
Sam’s lips -- such nice lips, she observed -- pulled up on one side. “I’d probably ask you where you got the Angel Blade,” he responded, though his focus on his laptop didn’t waver.  
She pouted, her lower lip puckering out. It was less fun to tease him with such subdued reactions. Her time in Hell had instilled in her a delight in watching people squirm. She then smirked, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth. She reached out her arm, running her fingernails over her bare forearm. “So, do you have an Angel Blade?” she teased. He smirked and opened his mouth to speak, grasping her hand with eyes still trained on his laptop. “Or are you just happy to see me?” His eyes immediately flashed to her as his jaw snapped closed. It was difficult to tell if he were blushing with his skin tone, but she certainly caught him off-guard. And that made her grin wickedly.  
when our ship comes in  
Meg poked at the slice of apple pie in front of her. Because her vessel didn’t require nutrition, she’d tended to do without; she hadn’t yet trained herself to eat for pleasure. Sam, on the other hand, had no problem attacking a slice at least twice the size of hers.  
“Pretty lawyer boy,” she cooed with a teasing grin.  
He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at her. “I never took my bar exam. I’m not a lawyer.”  
She wrinkled her nose. “‘Pretty pre-law-student boy’ doesn’t quite have the same ring. I’m sticking to ‘pretty lawyer boy.’” She smiled cheekily. “So, pretty lawyer boy,” she cooed again. He hummed in response. “I think we should debrief your case.”  
He coughed, trying to hide his smile behind his fist. “Really, Meg?” Her wide smile was his only response. “Geez.”  
She giggled. “Don’t like that one?” He shook his head as he took another bite. “So, should we review Act Sixty-Nine?”  
He started coughing again, unable this time to hide his smile. “Meg!” he reprimanded with a chuckle. “I’m trying to eat here.” He licked his lips -- an action Meg followed attentively with her eyes -- and tried his best to stifle his laughter. “‘Act Sixty-Nine,’” he chuckled. She couldn’t help but smile brilliantly in response.  
when our ship comes in  
Meg jutted her lower lip out, her hip swinging out to one side as she stood behind Sam. His attention was, once again, fixed on his laptop. She had been whining his name, demanding his attention, but he’d only hummed in response while continuing to work on his laptop. “What are you even doing?” she asked, huffing.  
“Research,” he automatically responded, his fingers not even pausing as they worked back and forth across the keyboard.  
“That can’t be any fun,” she grumbled. She hadn’t had much human contact so far that day, and she was beginning to get grumpy.  
“No, it’s not,” he conceded. “But it’s important, so I have to do it.”  
She let out a hefty sigh. “Come on, pretty lawyer boy,” she whined. She pressed herself into his back and reached over his shoulders; she unfurled her fingers and placed her hands flat against his laptop screen. “I’m more fun than a laptop,” she teased. He chuckled and shook his head, slipping his hands between hers and the screen. “And I don’t have any viruses,” she whispered, sorely tempted to nip his ear or press a kiss just below it. He burst into genuine, from-the-gut laughter, his forehead dipping to touch the keyboard. He arched his fingers back, slipping them into the spaces between hers, and clasped their joined fingers to his palms. He was holding her hands. And she smiled broadly and brilliantly, like a young girl in love.


End file.
